I’m a flight attendant and the world is my oyster: oversold flights, weather delays, and crappy food – it’s so glamorous! Kind of like a Greyhound bus in the sky… Recently I’ve been wondering: perhaps I made the wrong career choice? Earlier in my life, I wanted to concentrate on my theatrical career. In theory this was a good plan, I was taking classes, going on auditions, and getting the occasional job here and there. But in reality, I didn’t really have a theatrical career. Then I hit rock bottom. I didn’t know how I was going to pull out of my bad mood. I was writing about my dilemma in my journal when all of a sudden, it hit me: this job is a treasure of material for comedy! It was then I decided I wasn’t going to sit back and wait for Hollyweird or Broadway to discover me. I was going to go out and create my own thing. I had to think this through. Fortunately for me, time was on my side: what else was there to do on a 54-hour layover? I’d already been to Denny’s. So, I put down my bottle of Jack Daniel’s and started writing. And my musical revue was born. So, here’s a story about air travel, flight attendants, and me! Fasten your seat belts, raise your tray table, and stow your bag…the journey is about to begin in… Around the World in a Bad Mood by Rene Foss
A SKY GODDESS SPEAKS
"Welcome aboard sir, so glad you could join us today. You have seat 4b. Get you a gin and tonic? My pleasure." Pleasure my ass. I don’t want to make anyone a gin and tonic, except maybe myself. Well, I guess since I can’t have one, ‘ol 4B might as well. "Here you go sir. Oh, you couldn’t find room for your carry-on? You want someone to get it out of your way?" And I guess I’m that lucky someone. Jesus, what has he got in here? If this six-foot, 200 pound bruiser can’t lift it, how does he think I, five-foot four and 110 pounds – all right, 120 pounds – can lift it? Well, I’m glad to see that all my hard labor isn’t interfering with his cocktail. The last thing I would want to do is disturb him. I guess things could be worse…I could be married to him! I’d be willing to bet he’s an upgrade. "Well, it looks like the only available option is to check it. It sort of exceeds the size requirements." Oh boy, he’s getting up. Probably hasn’t moved that fast in years…amazing how he can heave that two-ton bag into the overhead and just two minutes ago he didn’t have the strength. That gin and tonic sure did wonders! "Thanks so much for helping with…your bag. I’m glad we didn’t have to check it. My name?" What does he want my name for? He’s probably doing to write me up. I’m standing here, risking my chiropractic good health trying to help this brute with his bag. And what do I get for my troubles? This idiot requesting my name! I’ll just make up a name…Pain and Humiliation. That’s it. Good ‘ol Pain and Humiliation…Foss. My friends call me Misery for short. "No need to apologize. Tonight? Well, I’m flattered, but I have an early pickup in the morning and…" God, I hate my life.
Recently I’ve been wondering: perhaps I made the wrong career choice? Earlier in my life, I wanted to concentrate on my theatrical career. In theory this was a good plan, I was taking classes, going on auditions, and getting the occasional job here and there. But in reality, I didn’t really have a theatrical career. Then I hit rock bottom. I didn’t know how I was going to pull out of my bad mood. I was writing about my dilemma in my journal when all of a sudden, it hit me: this job is a treasure of material for comedy!
It was then I decided I wasn’t going to sit back and wait for Hollyweird or Broadway to discover me. I was going to go out and create my own thing. I had to think this through. Fortunately for me, time was on my side: what else was there to do on a 54-hour layover? I’d already been to Denny’s.
So, I put down my bottle of Jack Daniel’s and started writing. And my musical revue was born. So, here’s a story about air travel, flight attendants, and me! Fasten your seat belts, raise your tray table, and stow your bag…the journey is about to begin in…
Around the World in a Bad Mood by Rene Foss
A SKY GODDESS SPEAKS
"Welcome aboard sir, so glad you could join us today. You have seat 4b. Get you a gin and tonic? My pleasure."
Pleasure my ass. I don’t want to make anyone a gin and tonic, except maybe myself. Well, I guess since I can’t have one, ‘ol 4B might as well.
"Here you go sir. Oh, you couldn’t find room for your carry-on? You want someone to get it out of your way?"
And I guess I’m that lucky someone. Jesus, what has he got in here? If this six-foot, 200 pound bruiser can’t lift it, how does he think I, five-foot four and 110 pounds – all right, 120 pounds – can lift it? Well, I’m glad to see that all my hard labor isn’t interfering with his cocktail. The last thing I would want to do is disturb him. I guess things could be worse…I could be married to him! I’d be willing to bet he’s an upgrade.
"Well, it looks like the only available option is to check it. It sort of exceeds the size requirements."
Oh boy, he’s getting up. Probably hasn’t moved that fast in years…amazing how he can heave that two-ton bag into the overhead and just two minutes ago he didn’t have the strength. That gin and tonic sure did wonders!
"Thanks so much for helping with…your bag. I’m glad we didn’t have to check it. My name?"
What does he want my name for? He’s probably doing to write me up. I’m standing here, risking my chiropractic good health trying to help this brute with his bag. And what do I get for my troubles? This idiot requesting my name! I’ll just make up a name…Pain and Humiliation. That’s it. Good ‘ol Pain and Humiliation…Foss. My friends call me Misery for short.
"No need to apologize. Tonight? Well, I’m flattered, but I have an early pickup in the morning and…"
God, I hate my life.